Coffee and a Collar

A Song on the End of the World

On the day the world endsA bee circles a clover,A fisherman mends a glimmering net.Happy porpoises jump in the sea,By the rainspout young sparrows are playingAnd the snake is gold-skinned as it should always be.

On the day the world endsWomen walk through the fields under their umbrellas,A drunkard grows sleepy at the end of the lawn,Vegetable peddlers shout in the streetAnd a yellow-sailed boat comes nearer the island,A voice of a violin lasts in the airAnd leads into a starry night.

And those who expected lightning and thunderAre disappointed,And those who expected signs of archangels’ trumpetsDo not believe it is happening now,As long as the sun and the moon are above,As long as the bumblebee visits a rose,As long as rosy infants are bornNo one believes it is happening now.

Only a white-haired old man, who would be a prophetYet is not a prophet, for he’s much too busy,Repeats while he binds his tomatoes:There will be no other end of the world,There will be no other end of the world.